


The Will to Survive

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-12
Updated: 2005-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-19 16:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: In a stunning act of bravery, Harry sacrifices himself to Voldemort in order to free Hogwarts. But now, he must face his biggest obstacle yet: survival.  Written Post-Ootp, Pre-HBP





	The Will to Survive

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Harry Potter sat with his back against the cold, stone wall. His hands were tied together in front of him and were resting on his lap, his wrists bleeding freely onto his ragged robes as the boy they belonged to wondered why his life had gone so wrong. He couldn't understand how things had gotten to this point. Hogwarts had fallen to the dark arts, and Harry was one of it’s prisoners, and the most pressing matter now, and had been for months, was how he would stay alive.

Questions wandered through his mind every minute that he was conscious. Questions of why, how, and what if’s. Other times, when the Death Eaters came into the dungeon to torture him (which was often), his mind would drift into an easy state of bliss after his mind would delve into the land of unconsciousness. It was there that he would relive the best moments of his life, and it was there that he longed to be every passing moment of his present.

"Eat."

Harry lifted his head, sending a groan down his aching back. In the darkness he could make out a cloaked figure silhouetted in the doorway before him. Something fell to the floor, and the Death Eater left. The dungeon door slammed forcefully, and Harry was left to try and locate the food morsel in the pitch dark chamber.

He pulled himself along the floor with his blood-covered hands, his legs trying to help with the movement. His ribs had been broken at one point from a blow to the chest, so his breathing was labored and it hurt to lie down in any position other than on his back. His hand touched something light, and Harry scrambled to pick it up. It was a small piece of stale bread, his usual dinner. He brought it to his lips hungrily and swallowed it in an instant, wishing he had some water.

In the darkness he crawled back to the wall and sat with his back against it. His painful gasps for air soon calmed down, and he drifted into a light, dreamless sleep.-"Get up you filthy boy."

Harry opened his eyes wearily. Light was flooding the room, and he squinted against it to try to see who was there.

"I said up!"

A rough, calloused hand seized Harry’s arm and lifted him forcefully from the ground. He struggled to find his footing before he was slammed into the stone wall and cried out as the sharp rocks sliced into his back.

"Come."

Harry, gasping for breath, followed the man from the dungeon. His eyes were still adjusting to the light, so he stumbled once or twice while going up the stone steps. He had gone down these same stairs every day before Hogwarts fell to Voldemort. They led down to the Potions classroom where Harry and his friends would go to endure hours of taunting from their Slytherin classmates. But Harry hadn’t seen that classroom once since he had been captured. He knew that classes were still held there, classes had continued at Hogwarts, but now they were to teach the students the ways of the Dark Arts.

He had no sense of time, so he couldn’t quite tell whether it was day or night until he emerged into the Entrance Hall. It was empty, and the sun was down, so Harry decided that it was dinner time. His suspicion was confirmed as he followed the Death Eater into the Great Hall and found it to be packed with students. A wave of silence passed over the room when Harry stepped inside. Every face in the hall was turned to him. Harry followed the Death Eater to the teacher’s table where many hooded figures sat. They stopped in the center of the table, in front of the throne that had once held Albus Dumbledore, but held Voldemort now.

"The Potter boy, my lord," the Death Eater said, bowing.

"Good, Avery," Voldemort replied, his eyes on Harry. "That will be all."

Avery bowed himself away, and Harry was left standing alone. He forced himself to look back into that snake-like face, but he was beginning to get weary with the effort it had taken to get here, and he longed to be able to lie down again. He got his wish, though in completely the wrong way.

A wand emerged from Voldemort’s billowing robes. " _Crucio!_ " he sneered, his eyes laughing at Harry.

There was no way Harry could avoid it, no way he could block it. The best he could do was try to survive. His muscles, already weak, began burning with pain. His eyes rolled back in his head, and all he could see was darkness. His chest heaved as he tried to contain his screams, but his ribs were pulsing painfully, and he couldn’t control himself much longer. He longed to just die, then he would be able to see his parents again, and Sirius, but Voldemort would never allow for that to happen. He didn’t have that kind of mercy.

The curse was lifted, and Harry found himself face-down on the floor with no recollection of getting there. The coppery taste in his mouth confirmed that he had bitten his tongue, and his whole body was trembling with the after-effects of the Unforgivable.

"Stand up," Voldemort said.

He slowly got to his feet, his hands still bound in front of him. He looked back into Voldemort’s face, not daring to blink too much. He refused to show his enemy weakness, he refused to ever let the Dark Lord know he had won.

"Come forward, Malfoy."

Harry was aware of footsteps behind of him, but didn’t turn to look. The footsteps stopped, and he sensed someone standing just next to him.

"Remember what I taught you, Draco," Voldemort said to the man standing next to Harry.

"Yes, my lord," came the drawling voice that Harry had become so accustomed to over his five years at Hogwarts. He heard Draco move beside of him, and then Voldemort spoke again.

"Turn to face your old friend, Potter."

Sending the evilest glare he could muster in Voldemort’s direction, he turned on the spot and met the rat-face of Draco Malfoy. "Hello, Ferret Boy," Harry hissed. Malfoy’s face flushed and he looked to Voldemort. The Dark Lord must have nodded or something, because then Malfoy turned back to Harry slightly more confident. Harry watched those icy grey eyes. What was it that seemed so strange about them? Was it fear he saw in those once so arrogant eyes? Was Malfoy afraid of doing what he had been told to do?

Malfoy raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. " _Crucio!_ "

Once again, Harry found himself writhing in pain on the floor, but the curse was lifted much sooner. He looked up at Malfoy who was standing in complete horror of what he had done.

"What is it, boy?" Voldemort demanded.

Malfoy looked back at Harry, his chest heaving.

"N-nothing, my lord," he stammered.

"Why’d you stop so soon?"

"I didn’t expect it to feel like. . . that, lord," Malfoy said, not breaking eye-contact with Harry.

"Try again," Voldemort ordered.

Harry watched Malfoy raise his wand again. Harry closed his eyes, and braced himself, but there was no way to prepare for the burning pain that rushed through his limbs. He felt the white-hot knives being thrust into his body, and then twisted painfully. He felt his brain pleading for it to stop, the ebb of unconsciousness eating away at it’s edges. Harry’s screams echoed through the hall, and slowly it began to fade away before the curse was lifted.

"Good. You may take your seat again."

Malfoy moved away, leaving Harry panting for breath on the floor.

Voldemort spoke to the whole school. "Lord Voldemort rewards those who obey him and punishes those who resist him. As you can see here tonight, Malfoy, who has remained loyal to me since his father died, is being rewarded by punishing the famous Harry Potter who nearly died trying to save this Mudblood-loving school. Those who resist me never win. May both of these boys serve as an example to those of you thinking of rebelling." He turned to Harry. "Having second thoughts about your chosen path, Potter?" he sneered.

Harry raised himself shakily to his knees. "No," he said defiantly, "Tom."

Voldemort ordered that Harry be taken out of his sight, and two Death Eaters rushed forward, grabbing Harry underneath his arms. He was dragged down several flights of stairs until they reached the dungeon he was kept in, where he was roughly thrown in, his head cracking sharply against the wall.

 

-

 

_Harry was going across some water in a boat that was moving without any engine and with no one rowing. The cool wind played across his face, and the salty aroma lingered in his nostrils. He was next to a giant of a man who was currently reading the newspaper. . . ._

_His feet rose from the grassy slopes of Hogwarts. An odd sensation swooped down into his stomach as he soared above the students all clutching broomsticks. . . ._

_He was in a dormitory, gazing wide-eyed at a pile of presents stacked high at the end of his bed. He scrambled over to them, eager to open his first Christmas presents ever. . . ._

_He was sitting in a car who’s tires were skimming a wide stretch of cloud. The boy in the drivers seat passed him a toffee. . . ._

_Oliver Wood was raising the Quidditch Cup into the air. The crowd roared with approval, and Harry knew this was the best moment of his life. . . ._

_He would be leaving the Dursleys forever. He would be off to live with his godfather. He would never have to go back to Privet Drive again. . . ._

_He was watching his first ever professional Quidditch game. Victor Krum had just gone into a vicious dive with Aidan Lynch on his tail. . . ._

_A squat figure was running off into the sunset with Peeves the Poltergeist wacking her alternately with a walking stick and sock filled with chalk. . . ._

_And Harry Potter slept on, willing his brain not to wake him up, urging his limbs not to scream out in pain again. And the world was just a dream again. A dream absent of Death Eaters and Unforgivable Curses, of Voldemort and dungeons, but filled with hot summer days and laughter with his friends._


End file.
